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M.J. O'Shea is here! Are you squealing? We can't hear you! C'mon a little louder! The unicorns are ever so excited to have M.J. here to party with us. And she not only brought a sweet ficlet, One Hour, but she's going to gift TWO lucky winners for her giveaway. Oh, we think we can hear your squeals now!

One Hour

by

M.J. O'Shea

One hour…

“It’s not even New Year’s. This is ridiculous,” I looked down at the letter in my hands. “I’m not going to go.”

There was chaos in the hallway, NYU students packing up to go home for the summer. I was one of them soon, leaving in the morning for the long drive back to Omaha.

“Go.” My roommate had more of a sense of adventure than I did. “You’ve been pining after shower guy all goddamn semester and turning down dates. You need some mystery.”

“I haven’t been pining. I’ve just been busy…”

“Go.”

Fifty minutes…

The note said, “Meet at Times Square. Midnight.I’ll find you.”

It had been slipped under my door right after I’d gotten back from my last dance class of the year. Freshman year. It had gone so fast. I opened the note, expecting nothing – a goodbye or an e-mail to keep in touch.

When I read what it said my pulse started spinning out hard and fast before I got myself in check. Mystery meeting in the middle of the night. Right.

Thirty minutes….

Midnight. Times square. What a cliché.

Didn’t explain why I was on an uptown train sweating through every stop, hoping I’d make it on time. There weren’t very many people on the train but still every stop seemed to take forever, watching the empty stops and the second hand click by.

Ten minutes…

The street was still crowded with tourists and after-show wanderers. I fought my way to the center of the square. Nobody would ever be able to see me… probably should’ve known better than to wear black. I was sweating, nerves and sticky sweaty June heat. And I had to wait…wait…wait. It seemed like forever.

One minute…

This is stupid. Why am I here?

I had boxes to pack and things to do and –

Oh. My. God.

Thirty seconds…

It was him, the guy from the dorm showers that I’d looked at day and night, too scared to even try to say hi. He was right there in front of me in a hat and a tank top and he looked so adorable. My stomach jumped hard into my throat. He walked right up to me, inches away and smiled.

Five

“Hey,” he said.

Four

“Hey.” What was this? He reached over and took my hand.

Three

“So, I have a question…” He bit his lip like he might be as nervous as I was.

Two

“What is it?”

One

“Can I kiss you?

+++++

About M.J. O'Shea:

M.J. O'Shea has been writing romance since algebra class in sixth grade (when most of her stories starred her and Leonardo DiCaprio). When she's not writing, she loves listening to nearly all types of music, painting, reading great authors, and on those elusive sunny days in the Pacific Northwest, she loves driving on the freeway with her windows rolled down and her stereo on high.

The unicorns thank M.J. O'Shea for stopping by with this gift. Don't forget to let her know what you think about "One Hour" in the comments. And now onto...

Would you like a chance to win a copy of M.J. O'Shea's latest, "X Marks the Spot"? This contest is open to two winners--one winner will get an autographed paperback copy, the other winner an eBook copy (it is open worldwide) Imagine having a book with M.J.'s signature in your hot little hands!

Jack Hunter is always on a quest for lost art, ancient manuscripts, and anything else that’ll romance the millions of viewers who watch his show each week. He hasn’t always hit pay dirt in his searches though, and a string of empty global treasure hunts has left his show on the brink of cancellation. Jack needs a white whale, a holy grail, nothing less than a miracle to revive his career.

Aloysius “Alo” Green likes his ivory towers. He’s content to study from the comfort of a university library and publish papers nobody other than academics will ever read. But coded letters pointing to hidden Nazi treasure fall into his hands, and while colleagues warn him to keep them to himself, Alo can’t stop obsessing. He makes a huge mistake and publishes a paper on his find, ignoring the danger doing so will bring.

Jack is sure he’s struck gold when his assistant brings Alo’s paper to him. Alo wants nothing to do with Jack or his televised treasure hunt. But after Alo is threatened, it appears Jack is his best bet to silence those who seek to use him to find the vast wealth first.

By trusting Jack, Alo might’ve saved himself… or made his worst decision yet.

To enter to win "X Marks the Spot", please leave a comment on this blog post and let us know your name and a means of contacting you (e.g., email, Twitter handle, link to Goodreads account, etc.BMBR will contact the winner privately for their mailing address)The giveaway is open until 10:00PM (Pacific time) on 11/14/15. Shortly thereafter, we will contact a winner whom we will select using a highly scientific "names in a hat" method (or, you know, an internet randomizer). Please respond to the winning notification within 48 hours or we will choose another winner.

A worldwide disease has
all but wiped out humankind. Only a few people survive, the doctor’s son
among them. But there’s something wrong with him: he no longer wants to
eat. Is he finally dying too?

The answer is as unexpected as it
is horrible: one night, he discovers a new hunger – a mindless craving
for blood. Horrified at himself, he flees into the night, but when he
tries to find sanctuary, he ends up almost getting killed. As he starts
to realize that even a predator can become prey, he runs into Garangjas –
another man who drinks blood. Irresistibly drawn, he follows Garangjas
to his flock of ‘Confirmands,’ a weird group of people who might just be
his ticket to survival.

There’s just one problem: how can the Confirmands stay alive if the rest of humanity dies out?

A deadly disease was spreading was wiping everyone out at a rapid pace. Human bodies were not absorbing their food anymore, so they were essentially starving, even though they were eating. No matter how much they ate, the food would pass through their bodies like nothing even happened. I have to say, this was an interesting concept and one I'd not read before.Our MC (who we don't learn the name of until the end) had stopped wanting to eat. He and his family were worried that he'd die soon, just like everyone else was. But he realized his sudden urge for blood, followed by an unfortunate incident that had him running. Frantically running, until he ran into Garangjas, who, like the MC, had a craving for blood. But Garangjas knew what they were and how to help the MC, so Garangjas took him into their "flock".OK. First, what the MC did to make him run was pretty horrific and he just kind of... moved on from it. He was at home and craved blood and took care of the urge... I think you get the idea. How does he just move forward after that? Like nothing happened? There was some remorse, but not enough for me to like him or care about him.The storyline was sort of all over the place and was hard to follow. There was a lot of weird terminology and euphemisms. Like the vampires (who weren't actually called vampires, but Confirmands) used the word virgin a lot in reference to the MC and I'm not sure why. Did they mean that literally? And how was it relevant to anything? I don't know. It threw me. And why did they call blood wine? I kind of get it when they were drinking the blood to call it something else so they could distance themselves from the gruesome reality. But calling it wine instead of blood when blushing... yeah, it was a bit too much.And then the (non)relationship with Garangjas was not developed enough. Well, not for the ending they had, anyway. I would have been OK with them if the ending were different. All in all, not a great read for me. I've liked Ingela Bohm in the past, so I'll be looking into her books again in the future, but I can't recommend this one.

THE GREGG is here!! The MOTHERCLUCKING GREGG is here! Be ready for her to wield the mighty sword from Planet Fuckatron and stuff your--

Whoops. Got our days mixed up. *clears throat* The Gregg is here today to share about her failure as a ghostbuster, though she gave it a great try. And she has an awesome 3 spooky book giveaway for one lucky winner, which includes her latest, Sightings.

Ghostbust...ed?

One of my standard go-to lines is “I don’t believe in ghosts, but I’m afraid of them.”

Despite lots of effort on my part, especially while I was young, I’ve never seen a ghost or experienced anything paranormal-y, though. I lived in a haunted house once. Never even got remotely creeped out. I worked in two haunted buildings too. Ho hum. At least I got paid. In my teens, I visited the grave of Sis Lynn–nothing. The one-room schoolhouse mentioned in Sightings? That was real, though not the legend behind it. We never knew the story. The ruined schoolhouse was on the way to a friend’s house and he talked about eerie blue lights in the place at night. I never saw anything and I walked that stretch of road quite a lot. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been to Gettysburg, one of the most haunted Civil War battlefields, and never experienced anything creepy. We toured the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum and a few other haunted spots, like the Peyton Randolph house in Colonial Williamsburg. Heck, my husband was raised in Burkittsville, MD, home of the Blair Witch!

Kari in a Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum (TALA) room where the asylum issued clothes to patients

Basically, if you are in the mood to check out anything spooky, I’m game, but I’m also the last person you want to bring along because ghosts snub me. The wankers.

I love wondering about it, though. Thinking. Scaring myself with a game of what-if. What would meeting a real ghost be like? Or seeing a genuine monster? How about fleeing a zombie horde?
I keep returning to these ideas, the shivers and the scares, in my stories because tales of what else might be out there, waiting to surprise and terrify, draw me. I keep signing up for ghost tours and visiting haunted places too.

So far, I seem to be a dead zone when it comes to ghostly or other paranormal occurrences, but I keep trying because maybe...someday...

Inside the TALA on the 3rd floor in a long, spooky hall. *gulps*

Author Bio:

Kari Gregg lives in the mountains of Wild and Wonderful West Virginia with her Wonderful husband and three very Wild children. When Kari’s not writing, she enjoys reading, coffee, zombie flicks, coffee, naked mud-wrestling (not really), and . . . coffee!

Quinn
Laramie moved to Mill Valley to care for his sick Aunt Betsy. After her
recovery, he invested hours once spent in hospitals hiking and
exploring the surrounding hills rather than returning to an empty
apartment in the city.

Patrick, a photographer and
self-proclaimed paranormal expert, saved Quinn from tumbling into a
flooded creek where a bridge had washed away years ago, taking a pair of
doomed lovers with it. Quinn and Patrick meet for other creepy jaunts
thereafter: a derelict one-room schoolhouse, an abandoned cemetery, the
burned-out shell of a home… Quinn hasn’t seen any ghosts yet, but
Patrick’s shy kisses haunt him after each paranormal adventure ends.

Quinn
wants more, and with their next spooky tour set to begin, Patrick is
finally ready to give in. But what surprises wait them in the eerie
manse atop Warner Hill?

He didn't believe in the monster of the lake . . . but that didn’t make it any less real.

When
Danny needs a getaway, his best friend goads him into a week-long
hiking trip. Who cares if local superstitions and old wives tales warn
the wary to avoid the lake once summer nights turn chilly? The trails
are still pretty, the wildlife just as plentiful, and the fall colors
beautiful for the lens of Danny’s digital camera. Nothing sinister could
happen, not here.

Danny was wrong. Assaulted by lusty tentacles
that push his body—and his sanity—to the brink, Danny is then held
captive by his best friend, betrayed for the sake of science. Unable to
escape and terrified of the changes in his body, Danny’s alternatives
are few. He will be returned, over and over, to the monster.

But maybe his future isn’t as bleak as it originally seemed.

All that’s keeping
Riley from the man he’s falling in love with are the ruins of a city
filled with half a million dead cannibals.

Strangers, Riley
and Graham sheltered together in a basement storage unit when the zombie
outbreak slammed into the world three months ago. They lived through
the first blast of the plague, but they may not last much longer among
survivors scrambling for dwindling resources. They agree to hike from
the city and to the safety of the mountains.

They don’t count on
the storm they hoped would cover their exit developing into a
Nor’easter, though, and they sure don’t think their visibility would
shrink so badly that they’d hike into the leading edge of a zombie
swarm, either. In the chaos of escaping the ravenous horde, they are
separated, with Graham racing toward feral dog packs to the east and
Riley sprinting to hostile survivors hunting them to the west.

Nobody said finding and keeping a quality guy (alive) during the apocalypse would be easy.

To enter to win a 3 book bundle of Sightings, Mating Season & Half a Million Dead Cannibals,
please leave a comment on this blog post and let us know your name and a
means of contacting you (e.g., email, Twitter handle, link to Goodreads
account, etc.)The giveaway is open until 10:00PM (Pacific time) on 11/13/15.
Shortly thereafter, we will contact a winner whom we will select using a
highly scientific "names in a hat" method (or, you know, an internet
randomizer). Please respond to the winning notification within 48 hours
or we will choose another winner.

Jane Davitt is here! And we're in for a DOUBLE treat today!! Kink lovers gather round because not only is she giving away an ebook (Life Under New Management) but she also wrote flash fiction, Come to Heel. It's a kinkster's delight!

Heels fetish? #winning

Come to Heel

by

Jane Davitt

“I can’t walk in them.”

“I can’t walk in them, Sir.”

The correction’s accompanied by a stinging slash from the switch that lands across my calves. Ow fucking ouch. I have a fondness for that skinny little sucker when it’s used on my fellow sub. Watching Andy’s butt become a living tic-tac-toe board leaves my balls tight and my inner sadist drooling.

What, I can’t be a sub and a sadist? Sorry, didn’t get that memo. Or it’s filed in the drawer marked, ‘Oh really? Now fuck off’.

Used on me, though, and I’m tempted to snap the switch in half and take what I get by way of punishment with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.

Okay, maybe not the song. Sir would make damn sure I was too busy screaming for mercy, forgiveness, and shit like that to focus on a tune.

I wriggle my toes. They’re pushed into a triangular space. Toes aren’t made to do that. It hurts. And my calves are a tight, taut stretch of flesh because I’m in four-inch fuck me heels and the angle and tilt – you have no idea unless you’ve worn them.

They’re all I’m wearing. Not even a cock ring. Classic black pumps, the Italian leather as soft as a sigh, needle-sharp heels making my muscular legs look elegant as a racehorse’s.

I stare in the long mirror. Yeah. Gorgeous. I can see it and Sir likes the view too, judging by the bulge in his pants. I preen a little, but I can’t do what he wants. I tried. I tottered. Staggered. Shuffled. Wearing heels, I’m as graceful as a toddler and I hate it. Hate disappointing him.

Tears. Fuck. He draws blood before he gets them usually and now they’re spilling out.

“Ssh.” He rests his hand on the back of my neck, clamping down. “I didn’t say you could cry. You haven’t failed me yet, but if I hear you tell me you can’t one more time, I’ll make you Andrew’s sub for a week.”

I hiss out a breath. No. Kneel to that cocky little shit who thinks he’s got a better ass than mine? Never.

“Again.” Sir caresses my cock, waking it to hardness after failure’s left it limp, working it with cool efficiency. “Maybe this will help your balance.”

Oddly, it does. Cock jutting, I throw back my shoulders, do the whole deep breath, focus bit and set off across the room, heels tapping on the wooden floor. God, my ass must look incredible. I throw in a sassy hip wiggle and get the switch again, catching the top of my thighs and leaving behind a sear and sizzle of pain.

I yelp and he clicks his tongue reprovingly.

“Is that how you’d normally walk? I don’t think so. These are what you’ll be wearing from now on, Tony. I like them on you. Get used to them and walk naturally, please.”

“Sir?” He can’t mean it.

“Oh, don’t worry.” He chuckles. “I got them in more colors than black.”

Really wasn’t what I was worried about.

#####

We unicorns thank Jane Davitt for the ficlet on Boy Meets Boy Reviews! Let her know what you thought in the comments! (Hot right?)

Author Bio:
At the age of eight I decided to write a book. I found a blank notebook, wrote 'Chapter One' at the start, scribbled a few hundred words about triplets with improbable names, then lost interest. Jump forward three decades and I still wanted to write a book, but the dim realization was dawning that meant I had to actually, well, write something.

Yes, it surprised me too.

So I did. Not about triplets, but love, angst, hot and spicy smut, and for the most part they're m/m romances.

I look at the shelf in my library where I keep the books with my name on them and yeah, there they are. I did it.

That eight-year-old me expected a lot of her future self though. Being an astronaut was also on the list. Did not do that.

Working for a perfectionist like strict, sexy-as-hell Ethan isn’t easy. Falling in love with him? No problem at all.

Taking
a bar job in an exclusive hotel is a stopgap for Andy. He’s an actor
and his big break is coming soon—he knows it. His hot new boss Ethan is
strict, demanding and totally off-limits but Andy can’t stop thinking
about him.

When Andy learns of Ethan’s need to be in control of
his partner—in bed and out of it—he’s stunned by the intensity of his
reaction. He wants Ethan guiding him, bringing order to his chaotic
life. And he sees that Ethan needs him too, though they can’t be open
about their feelings.

Ethan deals out deliciously perverse
consequences for misbehaving, but when it comes to incentives, he knows
just what to offer to have Andy on his knees begging for more.

But
some secrets can’t stay that way for long. And when difficult choices
arise, for once Andy can’t turn to Ethan for guidance. This time, he’s
on his own.

To enter to win an ebook copy of Life Under New Management, please leave a comment on this blog post and let us know your name and a means of contacting you (e.g., email, Twitter handle, link to Goodreads account, etc.)The giveaway is open until 10:00PM (Pacific time) on 11/12/15. Shortly thereafter, we will contact a winner whom we will select using a highly scientific "names in a hat" method (or, you know, an internet randomizer). Please respond to the winning notification within 48 hours or we will choose another winner.

Celebrate M-A-N-T-I-E-S times c'mon! The unicorns have squeed many times over this author this year! And if you haven't heard of her yet...pay attention because she's going places kid! We're happy to have Emory Vargas visiting with us today! And she comes with treats for all!

More specifically, the polyester and elastic fibers gripped Dan's balls in a vise. Next time he ordered pink panties online he was buying them in men's sizes, and he was splurging on satin.

Because he was definitely buying more. Itch or not, Dan’ cock jutted proudly, dark beneath the hot pink lace. He tapped his fingers along the length of it, just a tease. Dan was disciplined enough to deny himself the urge to grip his shaft and slide his palm along the rough fabric to see if it burned.

That was for Jake only. That was Jake’s gift. That, and the shiny black plug nudged between his cheeks. He clenched his ass to feel all seven inches of it. He swayed his hips and a jolt of pleasure ran up his spine. A low groan escaped him and he looked out the window again, desperate to see Jake’s car pulling into the driveway. He knew his husband’s routine by heart. Even on his birthday, Jake would go to crossfit and stop by the country club on the way back to steam in the sauna. He’d scrub his body in the shower and slather on unscented lotion until his black skin gleamed.

And now? Now he’d pull up and walk in, damp and clean, and he’d find Dan in their playroom, hard and hurting with want. Slick and stretched. And wrapped in a lovely pink surprise.

We volunteer to help unwrap Dan! Let Emory know what you thought of her ficlet! BMB Reviews thanks her for partying with the unicorns!Author Bio:
Emory Vargas loves knitting scarves and writing about tentative first time sexual encounters and amorous cephalopods, though not always at the same time.

To enter to win ebook copies of entire Rock Rod series, please leave a comment on this blog post and let us know your name and a means of contacting you (e.g., email, Twitter handle, link to Goodreads account, etc.)The giveaway is open until 10:00PM (Pacific time) on 11/11/15. Shortly thereafter, we will contact a winner whom we will select using a highly scientific "names in a hat" method (or, you know, an internet randomizer). Please respond to the winning notification within 48 hours or we will choose another winner.

When Lucien Mayer
is held captive by dangerous but seductive highwaymen, does he escape,
or does he give in to his heart’s desire?

Lucien, Earl of
Ravensberry, has the looks, the title, the house and all the money in
the world. What he’s lacking in his humdrum life of loneliness is
someone to warm his sheets at night. When he’s kidnapped by five
highwaymen one night, things start looking up. This is the most exciting
thing to happen to him in forever.

But Lucien’s life is in
danger. Dante, the tough, self-appointed leader of the band, doesn’t
have a lot of time for captives and vows to kill him—after he’s used
Lucien’s body as he desires. Then there’s Ambrosius, Dante’s best
friend, a damaged, reclusive individual who appeals to Lucien from the
outset. The feeling is mutual, and Lucien is soon braving a whirlwind of
emotions. He had never thought to fall for an outlaw, and he is torn
between escaping and satisfying the needs of his heart. All he knows is,
life will never be the same again…

Lucien seemed to have it all, on the outside. But he's lonely and tired of his mundane life. Lucky for him he gets kidnapped by some highwaymen!

Wait. Huh?

Lucien gets kidnapped and instead of planning escape, he pops a boner.

First off, the kidnapping scene was very confusing to me. There was a lot of "the man with the green eyes" or "the man with the dark eyes" going on and I couldn't keep track of who was who. I had Dante and Ambrosius mixed up for the longest time, and this is a short book, so... I was all over the place character-wise.Lucien was really intrigued by Ambrosius. He was the most sane and level-headed of the group and they had a connection almost right away. Ambrosius had a heartbreaking past and I felt for his character. He and Lucien were good together, they didn't wow me, but I understood their attraction.Now Dante... I have mixed feeling about that (sexy?) wacko. He has no use for Lucien and wants to dispose of him, after he uses his body in delicious ways, of course. Dante is just mean and gruff and vows to take what he wants from Lucien. To which Lucien protests, but then secretly wants. I never really connected with Dante and I'm not sure of his purpose in the relationship between Lucien and Ambrosius. His character was left way open for a sequel. And guess what? This is a historical romance. But you wouldn't know that based on the cover and not really from the blurb either. While I like the cover, I do wish it gave off a historical vibe. Stand and Deliver was OK. I liked the main couple, Lucien and Ambrosius, but otherwise this didn't really stand out for me. It needed more fleshing out, especially Dante's character.

So, you've all read A Forbidden Rumspringa, right? Well if you haven't, add it to the never ending TBR, because it's a MUST READ. Today Keira Andrews is here celebrating with us! You'll have the chance to win an ebook copy of A Forbidden Rumspringa and join in all the swooning and sighing over David and Isaac. Gah. Those boys. *sigh*

*****

Have you ever tried shoofly pie?

Until I began researching the Amish for my gay Amish romance book series, I’d never even heard of shoofly pie. A staple of Amish cuisine, this sweet pie is very easy to make. I decided to roll up my sleeves recently and give it a go. (For research of course. I was making pie solely in the pursuit of authenticity. Yep, that’s the ticket.)

It’s not known precisely how shoofly pie got its name, but it stands to reason that when baking a sugary pie in the olden days, the flies likely came a-calling and needed to be shooed away.

The star ingredient of shoofly pie is molasses. It’s sticky and sweet, but can also have a somewhat bitter aftertaste. Some people love it and others don’t. I’d never really thought much about it, but after making shoofly pie, I can say that I’m a fan!

The pie is crumbly and a little cakey on top, and then has the goopy molasses bottom. With the flaky crust, it’s a winning combination. This is the recipe I used. It was simple and delicious. Shoofly pie is a favorite of my character Isaac, and now I know why!

How about you? What’s your preferred pie?

*****

When two young Amish men find love, will they risk losing everything?

In a world where every detail of life—down to the width of a hat brim—is dictated by God and the all-powerful rules of the community, two men dare to imagine a different way. At 18, Isaac Byler knows little outside the strict Amish settlement of Zebulon, Minnesota, where there is no rumspringa for exploration beyond the boundaries of their insular world. Isaac knows he’ll have to officially join the church and find a wife before too long, but he yearns for something else—something he can’t name.

Dark tragedy has left carpenter David Lantz alone to support his mother and sisters, and he can’t put off joining the church any longer. But when he takes on Isaac as an apprentice, their attraction grows amid the sweat and sawdust. David shares his sinful secrets, and he and Isaac struggle to reconcile their shocking desires with their commitment to faith, family and community.

Pulse racing, Isaac stared at the metal and plastic contraption in Mervin’s hand, his plan to find a good whittling stick forgotten. “Is that a phone?”

“It’s a Touch.” Mervin was busting with obvious pride.

Isaac peered at it closely. “What does that mean?”

Mervin shrugged. “Dunno. But that’s what it said in Leroy’s note. It’s a Touch, and if I put it in the sun in this case, it charges the battery.”

Isaac glanced around. They were still alone in the woods near the Hooleys’. They had to be back soon for supper and the singing, but he wished there was some way they could stay hidden away in the long shadows of the trees with the gift from Mervin’s cousin in Red Hills.

“What does it do?”

“Here.” From his pocket, Mervin pulled out a long white cord with two round knobs dangling down. “Put these in your ears.”

Isaac stuck one in, but it popped out.

“No, that’s for your other ear. See how it has an L for left and R for right?”

Once Isaac had the little things in his ears properly, he nodded. “Now what?”

“Listen.” Mervin tapped the glass front of the rectangle and it burst into life with color and picture.

A moment later, Isaac jumped as music filled his ears. This music was faster like the songs they’d sing tonight, but so much noisier, and of course there were instruments. The beat thumped through his body. A woman sang about applause, and Isaac peered at the screen, his jaw dropping. Lady Gaga, it said. She had blonde curls and dark makeup around her eyes, and wore a tight dress that barely covered her chest and was practically see-through.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the song, and when it was over, he took the knobs from his ears. “Wow.”

Mervin grinned. “Isn’t it great? Leroy put a bunch of songs on it, and there are movies too!”

Isaac stared at the device. “How did he get it to you?”

“He mailed it. Wrapped it in plastic bubbles and it fit right into an envelope!”

“What if your parents had opened it?”

“No way,” Mervin scoffed. “It’s my job to go all the way out to the road to check the mail.”

“Do they even know Leroy writes to you sometimes?”

“Of course not. Man, Leroy’s so lucky his parents stayed. He gets to do rumspringa, and have a car and everything. He says they nag him about it every day, but at least they don’t stop him from going out and seeing the world.”

Isaac could barely even imagine the freedom. “But you know why they don’t allow it here.”

Mervin huffed. “So a few kids went and did something stupid. Now we all have to suffer?”

“But…it’s better for us. We shouldn’t want to try all these worldly things. They’re unclean.” He pointed at the contraption. “That’s unclean. Leroy shouldn’t have sent it.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to watch a movie?” Mervin’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs.

“Well…”

Laughing, Mervin clapped Isaac’s shoulder. “Always trying to be such a good boy. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Come on, I’ll show you—”

“Mervin!” A girl’s voice echoed through the trees.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he jammed the Touch back into his pocket with the white cord. He sprang to his feet.

Isaac followed suit, pulling out his knife and picking up the nearest fallen branch. He and Mervin leaned casually against a tree just in time for Mervin’s little sister to appear.

Esther put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing out here?”

“Whittling.” Isaac held up the branch.

“We’re leaving. It’s time for you all to have supper. So hurry up!” With that, she turned on her heel, her long dress flowing around her ankles as she raced off.

By “you all,” Isaac knew she meant the young people. He and Mervin hustled back to the Hooleys’, and took their seats at the long table inside the house. Mary sat across from him on the girls’ side, and Isaac resolutely kept his eyes on his plate. David was a few seats over from him.

The singing began at eight o’clock sharp. Isaac enjoyed these songs much more than the dour chants from church. While they still sang about God and worship, the tunes were lively and fun. Between songs, they chatted with each other, and Mary naturally spoke to him.

“Do you like chicken?”

Isaac nodded. At least it was an easy question. Who didn’t like chicken?

“I’m making chicken soup and biscuits for lunch tomorrow. And shoofly pie.” She smiled widely and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Isaac’s gut clenched. Somehow in his worrying about what it would be like to work with David, he’d overlooked the fact that he’d be seeing Mary every single day. He forced a smile. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

“Your Katie said you love shoofly pie.”

“I do. Thank you. I…um…” It was only polite to make conversation and ask Mary something, but his mind was utterly blank.

Fortunately Mark began another song, and Isaac was spared.

By the time they filed outside a couple of hours later, Isaac was walking so quickly he almost didn’t hear David call him. He spun back around as David said something to Mary and trotted over. Although David was a couple of inches taller than him, it was no reason for the intimidation buzzing through Isaac’s body. He wished he knew why David made him so nervous.

“Hi, David.” Isaac laughed nervously—that unfortunate braying sound.

David regarded him seriously. “I think my sister’s expecting you to ask to drive her home.”

“Oh.” That was the first move in dating. Panic bubbled in his chest. “Uh…I don’t have my own buggy yet. We can’t afford it. I’ve only got the old spare, and it’s not nice enough for her. It’s so bumpy and uncomfortable. It’s falling apart.”

David stared for a long moment before nodding. “All right.”

“Tell Mary I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t like her. She’s a very nice girl. She just deserves something better.”

David watched him again in his unnerving way. “I’ll tell her you said so. See you in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” Isaac felt like he might jump right out of his skin.

David gave Isaac’s forearm a squeeze where Isaac had pushed up his sleeve. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite.” Then he was walking away.

After Isaac tightened Silver’s black harness and clambered up onto the rickety single-seat buggy, he put the reins to her. She was an old draft horse who couldn’t pull the plow anymore, but she could manage this.

The buggy was five feet long and painted black inside and out. There was no cushion on the seat, just as there were no cushions anywhere in their house. In a newer buggy it wasn’t so bad, but the springs in this one were long worn out. The black oilcloth roof leaked in any rain beyond a drizzle.

It really wasn’t a nice enough buggy to take a girl riding in, but Isaac had a feeling the excuse would only fly for so long. Maybe he should just ask Mary out and be done with it. It wasn’t as if there was another girl he liked better, so what was he waiting for?

The steel-rimmed wooden wheels clattered, and Isaac’s backside was already sore as he bumped down the drive at Silver’s top speed, the feeling of David’s hand still hot on his skin.

After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, paranormal, and fantasy fiction, and—although she loves delicious angst along the way—Keira firmly believes in happy endings. For as Oscar Wilde once said, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”

Thanks for stopping by and celebrating with us, Keira! Also, for making us hungry for pie. *adds molasses to shopping list*

Enter to win an ebook copy of A Forbidden Rumspringa by commenting below with your name and a way of contacting you (email, twitter, goodreads, etc). This giveaway is open until November 10 at 9 PM PST when a winner will be randomly selected. Please respond to the winning notification withing 48 hours or a another winner will be drawn.

James and Iain's story - offshot of the Enlightenment series.Captain Iain Sinclair. Perfect son, perfect soldier, hero of Waterloo. A man living a lie. The only person who really knows him is his childhood friend, scientist James Hart. But they’ve been estranged since Iain brutally destroyed their friendship following a passionate encounter. Iain is poised to leave the King’s service to become an undercover agent in India. Before he leaves his old life behind, he’s determined to reconcile with James. An invitation to a country house party from James’s sister provides the perfect opportunity to pin the man down. James has loved Iain all his life, but his years of accepting crumbs from Iain’s table are over. Forgiving Iain is one thing—restoring their friendship is quite another. In the face of James’s determined resistance, Iain is forced to confront his reasons for mending the wounds between them. And accept the possibility that James holds the key to his heart’s desire—if only he has the courage to reach for it.

Ever have a bunch of people tell you how fantabulous something is and insist that you see/read/experience it for yourself? So you do and you keep waiting to be blown away by the fantabulousness?This was one of those times.I've witnessed so much squeeing over this author that I was expecting to be thunderstruck and it never transpired.What I did like was her ability to create the Regency atmosphere that I love. She clearly has extensive knowledge of the time made evident in her usage of the language and customs. This relationship though... did not enrapture me.James and Iain are childhood friends. Their story is told in non-linear fashion from the time they are boys to present. They have moments of intimacy but Iain inevitably pulls away from James. Time and time and time again. James is full of hopeful optimism and holds on to the dream of being a couple FOR YEARS! Iain comes back periodically from his military service and inserts himself in James' life only to leave him high and dry. Again. Once he decides that he's going to accept a position in India as a spy he vows to make peace with James. James puts him through his paces that's for sure. Rightly so!I'm big on retribution, but I just didn't feel the chemistry between them. I wasn't WOW'd. I kept expecting to be gut punched with feels that never materialized. It would have been more successful for me had they spent more time together developing as a couple. Instead they were together for all of half a chapter which was insufficient to convince me of their longevity. Iain could've still high tailed it the next morning and I wouldn't be at all surprised. Because fickle pickle.Nevertheless, I was impressed by the writing style. I love Regency novels and I will read something else by this author. In all likelihood, it just boils down to personal preference. I like my MCs to be together and not constantly fighting. If you don't, give it a whirl!

The lovely Morticia Knight is celebrating with us today! Not only did she bring an amazing giveaway of all four books in her Sin City Uniforms series, but she wrote us some kinky fic for our pervy enjoyment.

*****

“Shall I place your new Oxfords next to the others on the rack, or would you prefer that I leave them wrapped in the box?”

He glanced up from where he kneeled in the lavish walk-in closet of the newly built mansion. It was located in the Hollywood Hills, near the lake, one of four estates constructed at the beginning of 1929. After the crash, his employer, Doctor Grayson, had been able to acquire it at a fraction of the price. Doctor Grayson loomed over him, his expression one of indifference.

“Are you purposely being obtuse? Is it that you again require the sting of my belt to remind you?”

He flushed, his cock swelling, filling until it pressed uncomfortably against the woolen fabric of his valet uniform.

His response was in the same tone that he always used – one of complete obedience. He didn’t raise his voice, nor did he whimper. The words he used weren’t said in an excited manner. He remained professional, detached – as if Doctor Grayson had just inquired as to when tea might be ready.

“As you desire, Doctor Grayson. Shall I finish with the shoes first? If that doesn’t please you, I could instead remove my clothing then get on my hands and knees in the punishment room.”

His cock leaked. He had to be careful to remain in control of his body. A further punishment awaited him if he stained his trousers – a punishment he might not wish for. Doctor Grayson regarded him, the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“It would please me if you would remove your clothing here. Once you’ve folded them neatly and set them aside, you are to crawl to the shoe box,” He indicated to where it had been left in the doorway to the closet, “You are to retrieve them, remain on your hands and knees, then place them neatly on the rack.” He pointed to the other end of the closet.

It was a test. It had to be. If he crawled the way the doctor commanded, it would be impossible to remove then carry the shoes in his hands – even one hand. If he questioned Doctor Grayson’s orders, he would no doubt get trussed up in the leather cords that his employer regularly bound his genitals with. He hadn’t come in over a week, and the last time he’d been given permission, the doctor hadn’t been present to mock him at the moment he’d spent. He’d been left alone to stroke his own cock to gain release. It had been unsatisfying and practically pointless. A waste.

“Well? Am I to stand here all day while you gape at me with that ridiculous expression on your face?”

“Forgive me, sir. Right away, sir.”

He stood, facing his employer, his fingers trembling as he disrobed. As he held his employer’s gaze, which he was required to do at times such as when he stripped down, he ruminated that he’d never seen a more magnificent man. His previous employer had been a silent film star, dashing and suave. But there’d been a hint of the feminine to him, despite his well-defined, masculine form. Still, he’d loved him so, had wished that he could please the demanding screen idol so well, that he might be invited to his bed. He knew he didn’t deserve it - however, it hadn’t stopped him from hoping.

Doctor Grayson was quite handsome as well, but his features had a harder edge. His eyes were dark and piercing, an almost cruel twist to his lips. He had a full head of black hair, dusted at the temples with grey. The doctor was strong, broad shouldered, more than capable of restraining him, whipping him until he drew blood while the man himself barely broke a sweat.

With the last vestiges of clothing removed and placed on the carpet as Doctor Grayson had requested, he dropped to his knees. He inhaled on a sharp breath as the doctor palmed his own erection through his pants. Instinctively, he licked his lips.

“Do you honestly think you’re worthy enough to have my cock in your mouth? Someone as useless and pathetic as you are? Why would I waste my seed on you?”

Tears filled his eyes. Doctor Grayson was right. He was pathetic. But he could prove he was worthy, he would show him that he deserved to have his cum.

“Forgive me, sir. I know I’m pitiful. Please allow me to show you how obedient I can be.”

Many times his employer had taunted him with the man’s gorgeous, ample prick. He’d teased him with it, taken it out and stroked it while he was tied up and at Doctor Grayson’s mercy. He would bring it close enough so he could smell the doctor’s arousal, his musk, almost close enough to taste, but then he’d take it away. Then the doctor would bring himself to completion, spill his cum on the floor. If he was lucky, he would then be allowed to clean it up with his tongue, but that was only when he hadn’t disappointed Doctor Grayson too much.

“Show me, you little cockwhore, then we’ll see.”

He crawled to where the shoes were carefully wrapped in the store packaging, then nudged the lid with his nose until it tumbled to the side. With his lips and teeth, he parted the tissue paper, brushing it aside to where the first shoe was cradled against its match. They were snugly held within the box, so it took him a considerable amount of effort to extricate the first one.

Once it was free, he grasped the laces between his teeth, careful to keep from drooling on them. He held his tongue away from the ties, sucking in his spit as he crawled across the thick carpet to his destination. He cried out between clenched teeth, almost dropping the shoe at the sharp sting of Doctor Grayson’s belt on his ass.

“Faster! Should I get another man to do this for me? Someone less incapable?”

He shook his head, the shoe whacking his cheek as he continued to crawl. His knees protested and he almost stumbled over his own hands. The burn from the second stripe the doctor laid across his ass built in intensity. A third strike caught the back of his thighs, and tears spilled down his cheeks. He was almost to the shoe rack.

Once he reached the display of footwear, he sat back on his haunches, but kept the laces clamped between his teeth. He wouldn’t disappoint Doctor Grayson. He craved the man’s cock, needed the feel and taste of it in his mouth, the tickle of the coarse curls as he swallowed around him, his masculine scent.

At last, he’d positioned the Oxford just right, nudging the one next to it with his nose until they were aligned perfectly. He caught his breath. An almost gentle hand rested on his head before it was snatched away.

“That was acceptable. Now hurry and finish the other one. I don’t have all day.”

Doctor Grayson sounded unusually pleased with him. Maybe if he didn’t fail with the second shoe, he’d be allowed to…?

No. He couldn’t get himself too worked up. Whenever he anticipated something too much, that would be when he failed the hardest.

Focus. Crawl to the other shoe, be quick about it, then finish your task. Pleasing Doctor Grayson is all that matters. Don’t think of your own petty needs.

He did as the doctor had demanded, four more lashes of the belt cracking against his skin before the second shoe was placed correctly.

“The shoes look excellent. And you managed not to mark the leather with your spit, so there’s that. However, you’ve wasted much of my time. I’m not sure if I should let you suck me. It might be quicker and more efficient if I just took matters into my own hands, hmm?”

He shoved his nose in the carpet, supplicating himself before the doctor. “Please, I beg of you. Give me another chance. Anything. I’ll do anything, sir.”

“Then crawl to the punishment room from here and we’ll see. I expect you to arrive there no later than five minutes from now and I want you on your knees, hands clasped behind your back, mouth open and ready for me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir. Completely. Thank you, sir, thank you so much.”

He kissed the tip of each of Doctor Grayson’s shoes. He winced from the stinging slap of the belt across his back.

“Quit wasting time, you fool.”

“Yes, sir.”

He scurried along the carpet, willing his mind away from the long stretch of hardwood floor and the flight of stairs that lay before him. His thoughts immediately turned to despair. He couldn’t make it in time – it wasn’t possible. Then he recalled the last time his employer’s bittersweet seed had filled his mouth and he surged forward, the burn on his knees from the carpet, the sting on his back from the beating - all of it was pushed to the back of his mind.

“Ten seconds.”

He gasped, sweat covering his body in a fine sheen. His employer’s voice sounded at the bottom of the stairs and he launched himself across the threshold. He wouldn’t cheat at the last moment. It was impossible for him to lie. He would confess all and the punishment would no doubt be devastating. He couldn’t chance it. He needed Doctor Grayson, needed all of him.

Gasping for air, he righted himself, parting his lips even as he attempted to control his breathing. The Doctor strolled into the room.

“With only a second to spare. I’m disappointed that you didn’t do better, but you did fulfil my requirements. You may suck my cock.”

He almost burst into tears, his joy so overwhelming. His employer approached him, unbuttoning his trousers as he drew near. Once Doctor Grayson’s hardened length was revealed, he clenched his asshole, his dick twitching. He’d been so close to climax from the sight alone. Had almost ruined the glorious opportunity through his own pitiful lack of control. No wonder Doctor Grayson had to correct him so much. He deserved it.

The moment Doctor Grayson’s silky steel passed over his lips, he barely averted another crisis. How he’d longed for the doctor’s taste. Nothing was more beautiful, more satisfying then pleasing his employer with his mouth – not even when he was ordered to give up his ass in whatever manner the doctor chose.

He sucked for all he was worth, hollowed his cheeks each time he pulled off the large prick that filled his mouth so well. He licked underneath the shaft, flicked his tongue in the valley below the doctor’s tip before pushing into the slit. The doctor hissed, clutching his hair in an iron grip.

“That’s it you slut, you cocksucking degenerate. Take it. Take it all.”

The doctor shoved his length down his throat, and he gagged before relaxing to swallow around it. He held in his breath as the doctor pumped his seed into him, growling though his climax. Right as he was about to struggle for air, the doctor released his hold and let his soft member slip away, wetness trailing down his chin.

“Lick me clean then tuck me back in.”

He did as he was told, fighting the tears that burned in his eyes. There was something about Doctor Grayson that held him like no other before. Usually, the berating and punishment was all that he needed, but with the doctor…

“Look at me.”

He peered up at his employer, readying himself for the expression of disgust over what a horrible job he’d done, how he should be tied up for the rest of the evening, not allowed to come for another week, or perhaps be forced to eat his supper out of a bowl on the kitchen floor like the dog he was. Instead, there was a glimmer of something else.

“You performed well, my little pervert. You must really desire to please me.” He arched a brow. “Perhaps, this one time, I’ll allow you to choose a reward.”

His heart hammered against his ribs. Could it be true?

“Anything, sir?”

“Anything.”

He swallowed hard, not sure if he dared. But he’d wanted it for so long, dreamed of it nightly. Surely he wasn’t good enough for such a thing, no matter how much he loved the doctor. Surely the doctor would only deny him, maybe even send him away.

“Are you so ungrateful for my kindness that you won’t answer me? Shall I beat you bloody instead?”

His gut clenched. “No! Forgive me, sir. I’m merely afraid that you’ll refuse me, that I couldn’t possibly be good enough to ask such a thing.”

“Undoubtedly you’re not, but I’m ordering you. Tell me what it is immediately or you won’t have my cock in any way for the rest of the month.”

He gasped. He’d die without the doctor’s beautiful prick. “A kiss. May I please have a kiss?”

A series of emotions crossed the Doctor’s face, none that he recognized, none that spoke of derision or disappointment. The tension in the air hung between them and he wasn’t sure what to do. At last the doctor’s mien returned to the indifferent expression that he was accustomed to. He would no doubt be refused. It had been a ridiculous folly to wish for it in the first place.

As the doctor gazed down at him, he ran one finger across his brow before allowing it to trail along his cheek. He held his breath in anticipation.

“Yes, Hector. You may.”

About Morticia Knight:
Author Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after. If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little heart’s desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share – her adventures as a published author began in 2011. Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the northern Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.

Billionaire Allistair stays alone in his luxury penthouse apartment at the top of Dark Fantasy, terrified of the real world and of opening himself up to genuine emotions. He takes lover after lover, all of them allowing him to do whatever he wants to their bodies, in the hopes that they can scam something from him.

One night is all he ever shares with a plaything—he knows they only want the money and luxury he can offer them and nothing more. But the down to earth Steve is different. They share the same kinks and are explosive when together. But could the muscled law officer ever want more than the lust-filled encounters that have become such an addiction?

As they grow closer, they discover they also have to find a balance between Steve’s everyday world and Allistair’s entitled world before they can truly find an ever after. They also have to make sure Allistair stays safe. Filthy rich playboys are too tempting to those who seek the ultimate payday—and who aren’t afraid of hurting someone to get it.

Thanks so much for stopping by and the giveaway, Morticia! And for the sexy fic. Fans of the Gin & Jazz series will be quite pleased, I suspect ;)

Morticia Knight is giving away ebook copies of the first four books in her sexy series, Sin City Uniforms, to one very lucky winner!

Enter to win by commenting below with your name and a way of contacting you (email, twitter goodreads, etc). The giveaway is open until November 9th, 9PM PST when a winner will be randomly drawn. Please respond to the winning notification within 48 hours or we will choose another winner.

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